Knight: Becoming King of the World

"That’s right! We must have Henry’s head!"

The speaker was a good friend of Baron Sura, and he was furious about the Baron’s tragic fate.

’That despicable outsider, Henry! He has no respect for the rules!’

Consumed by anger and anxiety, the nobles of the Anti-Henry Alliance made their decision. They dispatched their spies to secretly subvert Henry’s supporters or sow discord among them.

These spies were all carefully selected—some were eloquent, others agile, and still others masters of disguise. Each was given a unique mission, but they all shared a single objective: to weaken Henry’s alliance.

However, the spies vanished without a trace.

Not a single one managed to return, nor could any of them send back a message.

It wasn’t until the Anti-Henry Alliance’s main army arrived in the Akakarat Region that they learned the fate of their spies: their heads were now hanging outside Henry’s camp.

Outside Henry’s camp, the spies’ heads were mounted on rows of wooden stakes. Their eyes were wide with what seemed to be a silent testament to their terror and resentment.

This news filled the nobles of the Anti-Henry Alliance with unprecedented fear and fury.

"That evil butcher, Henry! He’s sending us a warning!" a Baron said furiously.

"He’s telling us that anyone who dares to move against him will meet the same end?!" another Baron snarled, gritting his teeth.

A young Knight stepped forward. "We can’t just back down. We have to do something!" But it was a statement of the obvious, amounting to nothing.

"We can’t let Henry continue to act so arrogantly. He must be punished!"

The nobles of the Anti-Henry Alliance began to discuss countermeasures. ’Perhaps a direct confrontation isn’t a good idea?’

"We can try to cut Henry’s supply lines, so his army can’t get enough food and weapons."

"We could also use our intelligence network to spread rumors and instill doubt and fear in the nobles who support Henry."

However, despite their heated discussions, their plans fell apart before they could even be implemented.

This was because, as time passed, more and more nobles brought their Private Armies to join the ranks of the Anti-Henry Alliance. They were all hoping to get a piece of the pie from this rising, almost legendary star that was Henry...

Theoretically, their advantage was growing, as the ranks of the Anti-Henry Alliance swelled.

But this was not a good thing. While their numbers looked impressive, they had almost no command structure. Every two or three Barons formed their own little clique.

Not only was the chain of command a mess, but the logistics were also a complete nightmare.

There were constant squabbles over who took more and who spent less.

With the conflict escalating to this scale, the Emperor surely knew what was happening. His intervention would only create unnecessary complications.

So, they decided to scrap all the convoluted plans and conspiracies.

Attack! Open war!

"We can’t wait any longer! That butcher Henry’s army is growing. We must act now!" a Baron said anxiously.

"Yes, we must teach him a lesson before he becomes even more powerful!"

Spring arrived quietly, and the smoke of war began to drift across the fields of the Akakarat Region.

One morning, the armies of Henry and the Anti-Henry Alliance converged on this land, each eager to meet the other in battle.

Initially, both sides acted with unusual restraint.

They lacked the experience of the imperial Standing Legions in commanding large-scale warfare. Thus, the initial engagements were more like small-scale skirmishes and probing attacks.

Barons and Knights from both camps led their Private Armies from their encampments, fanning out across the battlefield in small groups to seek out their rivals.

Clad in heavy armor and wielding sharp swords, these Barons and Knights galloped across the battlefield on their warhorses, seeking opportunities for glory and victory.

The series of small battles became a stage for displays of individual valor.

The victor in each clash would be treated like a hero in their own camp.

As for the losers, while they might forfeit some soldiers and resources, they were not disheartened.

They believed that ultimate victory would be theirs.

The outcome of the final battle would be what truly decided who sat at the table to eat, and who was the meat on the table.

All in all, both sides had a bright future ahead of them!

So, who bore the brunt of all this?

This daily routine of small-scale battles put Count Akakarat in an increasingly foul mood.

He stood on his city walls, watching the distant, sporadic fires of battle, his heart filled with helplessness.

’Damn it all, why are you fighting on *my* land? Do you have any idea how much this is affecting my city’s trade revenue?!’

During this time, the war had caused merchant caravans to take detours, severely impacting the city’s commerce.

Count Akakarat estimated he had lost at least ten thousand Dinars in revenue. At this point, he wanted to kill both sides.

However, despite his fury, Count Akakarat wasn’t entirely without some benefit from the war.

Both warring factions frequently came to his city to purchase supplies for their logistical needs. The Count, in turn, seized the opportunity to raise the prices on certain goods. It wasn’t much, but it was a small profit nonetheless.